


"Fade Rifts & Other Weird Shit: The Inquisitor Lavellan Story" (It’s A Working Title – Varric)

by scapegoat



Series: Varric Is Definitely Writing This Down [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: (One-Sided) Hawke Sibling Rivalry, Adorable Inquisitor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Antivan Crows, Assassins & Hitmen, Awkward Flirting, BAMF Fenris, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood Magic, Book: The Tale of the Champion - Varric Tethras, Bull's Chargers, Cassandra Pentaghast's Disgusted Noises, Cookies, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Elves, Demons, Dragon killing, Dragons, Drinking, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarven Carta (Dragon Age), Elven Alienages, Elven Clans, Elvish, Fade Rifts, Families of Choice, Fereldan Culture and Customs, Friends of Red Jenny, Gambling, Getting to Know Each Other, Hawke To The Rescue, Hero Worship, Human Disaster Hawke, Inquisition Agents (Dragon Age), Iron Bull Has A Dragon Kink, Magic, Meddling, Mercenaries, No Pants Fridays, Obliviousness, Orlesian Culture and Customs, Possession, Purple Hawke, Qunari Culture and Customs, Qunlat, Sassy Inquisitor, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Spirits, Tal-Vashoth Culture and Customs, Tevene, The Inquisition - Freeform, Varric Tethras' Books, Varric Tethras' Nicknames, Warden Carver Hawke, nobles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:39:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8827144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapegoat/pseuds/scapegoat
Summary: Sera said if The Inquisitor seemed more like people he wouldn’t seem so scary to those willing to give their lives for him. It might also make inquisiting more bearable considering they deal with batshit magister assholes, mercenaries, demons, the carta, orlesians, and dragons – which, despite what Bull says, are only cool until they try to eat you. Not to mention they fight whatever else the sky literally throws at them.Showcasing The Inquisition not only makes The Inquisitor seem more relatable and approachable but explains how/why he hasn’t thrown himself from a balcony yet. Also, who in Andraste’s name is that Qunari who just showed up?Featuring: Inquisitor Lavellan, Adaar The Valo-Kas Mercenary, Sera, Iron Bull & His Chargers, Lady Josephine Montilyet, Hawke, A Broody Glowing Elf, Varric, Dorian, Harding, Cole, and other people of limited importance (i.e. the rest of the inquisition). “Special Guest” appearances by: Clan Lavellan, Bianca The Crossbow, The Hero Of Ferelden, Whoever Rules Orlais, King Alistair & Queen Anora Theirin, Various Grey Wardens, and that other Hawke sibling; you know, the grumpy one.





	1. the "inner" circle

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not make money from writing nor do I own The Dragon Age series; I just play the games.

Every great whatever needs some not-so great people to balance everything out. Case and point: Orlais in its entirety. However, this isn’t about Orlais – although Skyhold _is_ in Orlais but not the fancy part where they eat snails.  
  
After everyone got bruised and banged up by some giant gloating darkspawn declaring war, the advisers plus Cassandra appointed “The Herald Of Andraste” leader of the inquisition. A little _late_ considering he’s been leading the entire time. But hey, why not make it official? Add a fancy title and everything. Inquisitor “I’m Just An Ordinary Elf From The Free Marches” Lavellan declared the inquisition will fight for what is right. He obviously has a difficult time hearing people call him _Inquisitor_ instead of just _Herald_ if his twitching was anything to go by (and he’s already twitchy by nature).  
  
Unlike most Dalish elves Sera’s had the unfortunate displeasure of bumping into, lavellan’s not like them. Hell, he’s not like _anyone_ Sera’s ever met; including that Red Jenny lady from Tantervale with the huge rack and fingers that could catch on fire. Despite the vala, vasa, valsa, ... _the markings on his face_ , Lavellan’s not elfy in the slightest. Never going on about “lost glory” or “the good ol’ days” the way Solas carries on, even though Solas doesn’t consider himself “one of the people.” The guy needs to make up his mind, seriously. In fact, speaking of Solas, Lavellan isn’t a giant cloud of broodiness either. Another thing most elves had in common was how depressing they were. The only elfy thing Lavellan does is use elfy swearwords but _those_ are funny.  
  
He did tell Sera, well he told Josephine and Sera eavesdropped as she walked by but the point remains: Lavellan was a loner among his clan. It took his clan weeks to notice his disappearance. Not _a week_ , weeks – plural. Apparently, he wasn’t as self-righteous as the rest of them and was shunned for it. Didn’t help that he was considered their best warrior/hunter in generations. If Sera didn’t know any better, she’d think the bastards were grateful in thinking he died at the conclave. He may’ve distrusted strangers (as any rational minded person would) but he still willingly agreed to help close the breach despite whispers and hateful looks.  
  
They’ve been in Skyhold for weeks and repairs are coming together. Place looks like less of a shithole than it did when they first arrived.  
  
Sera’s got a pretty sweet room with a view in the tavern and although people walk by and stare Lavellan’s the only one who dropped by. He dropped by when they first unearthed the place and helped her put up all her little things. It’s been far too long since Sera’s had a friend. The “Friends” Of Red Jenny don’t count, although _friend_ is in the name they’re never in one place long enough to hang out with. Besides, The Friends Of Red Jenny are friends indirectly. Most of them don’t know one another from a hole in the wall just by looking. Sera’d like someone to roll around with but that damn sure won’t be Lavellan – and even if she was interested in him or men in general, _he’s_ interested in men – in general. What a pair they make.  
  
After the cookie incident on the roof, they’ve been hanging out on the roof frequently. They take in the view, make lewd comments at passerbys, occasionally fall asleep, toss things into other things. It’s great! “You know, you ask me all these questions about me but you never talk about you.” Lavellan has half a cookie dangling out of his mouth when he turns to her. “Sure. Give me the stupid face now but I’m onto you ‘oh great inquisitor.’”  
  
Breaking off the piece not in his mouth, Lavellan swallows the rest before answering. “What do you want to know?”  
  
“All the stuff you made me tell you.”  
  
“About where I came from? You know you didn’t really give me an answer, right?” Sera cocks her head to the right. “Alright.” He sighs. “I don’t really remember much, honestly. Too many blows to the head I guess.” Sera snorts. “We roamed mostly around The Free Marches, lots of emptiness and rock. My parents didn’t start off with Clan Lavellan they sorta just showed up. I don’t know what clan they originated from and no one seemed to want to talk about it. My parents died when I was a baby, like just days after we came to the clan. A rival clan and a disagreement.” He frowns. “Life was about as shitty as you could imagine: fighting famine, diseases, _each other_ , hunters, nature itself. Oh! We did spend some time with The Hero Of Ferelden’s clan. Mahariel wasn’t there, though. They say she disappeared after becoming Warden-Commander. Like almost immediately.”  
  
“ _Right_.” Sera leans back against the wall, “forgot she was an elf. Heard she and the lady night spy bird have ‘history.’”  
  
“Heard that too...” They frown then look at each other.  
  
“For someone who knows everything I don’t know how she can’t know where her lover is.” Sera taps her chin then sits up.  
  
“They weren’t lovers.” Sera looks at him. “They _were_ but she ended up with someone else. It’s been ten years and they still try to hide the Hero Of Ferelden bedding half her companions.”  
  
Sera whistles. “Bet The Big Talker would tell that story, yeah?” She chuckles. “Hey! Think Blackwall met her?”  
  
“Blackwall? Sera, I don’t think all Grey Warden knows one another.” Sera snaps her fingers in disappointment. “But all the Grey Wardens except Blackwall disappeared, right? Maybe Mahariel disappeared with them— _no_ , she disappeared before the others.”  
  
“ _There_ you are.” Lavellan and Sera look through the window to see Varric against the door. “Got something to show you. I guess Buttercup can come too.” They climb back into the tavern and follow Varric around, leaving (the “proper” way) and heading up the partially fixed battlements. “Didn’t want to make a big deal of it when you were being all inspirational but I sent word to a friend who might be able to help you with Corypheus. He just arrived this morning and I figured you’d want to meet him before the Seeker kills us both. Well, kills _me_.”  
  
Leaning against the walls is none other than the Champion Of Kirkwall himself. Lavellan gapes a bit. He’s roamed the Free Marches the majority of his life, he’s heard of the champion. Seeing him, however, is something else. Varric introduces everyone and they all shake hands. Lavellan stares at his hand dumbly (the hand Kirkwall’s Champion just shook!) as Sera giggles, “Cassandra’s gonna kill you, yeah? Wasn’t she looking for him?”  
  
“I’m a popular guy.” Hawke says, “lots of people look for me. Uh, who’s Cassandra?”  
  
“She’s a Seeker, abducted me from The Hanged Man after your disappearance, and took me back to your old estate. I told her about how heroic you were and guess it bought you some time. Not much though, considering I had to bring you here anyway.”  
  
“Wait. You were at The Hanged Man? The same tavern that was _destroyed_ during the mage rebellion?”  
  
“Had to get whatever ale they left. Besides, I wasn’t _in it_ , I was near it.” Hawke gives Varric a disbelieving glance. “And what about you, Serah Hawke? I’m surprised you’re not accompanied by Junior or a certain brooding elf you fancy?”  
  
Sera raises an eyebrow, “you’re with an elf? Bet that turned a lot of heads.”  
  
“Well, it was him being an escaped former slave with lyrium markings carved into his flesh that turned more head than the ‘elf thing.’” Hawke says with a shrug. “I gave Fenris plenty to do to occupy himself while I check out this ‘Inquisition’ thing. There’s nothing to—”  
  
“There’s nothing to what? _Worry about_? Are we talking about the same Fenris, messere? Broody elf, wears spikes all the time, glows, lived alone in an abandoned mansion for almost eight years, wouldn’t let you take on a horde of spiders without him?”  
  
“In my defense, I don’t like spiders.” Hawke clears his throat, “but I digress. We ran into Carver and those two have been arguing since we got your letter, which was weeks ago in case you forgot. Now, assuming Fenris hasn’t killed and strung up my brother I have nothing to worry about. Besides, Charade is with them so that’ll minimize bloodshed. She’s the only member of my family Fenris actually likes, well...  _tolerates_ ; he’ll be willing to not kill Carver if she asks.” Hawke clears his throat again, louder this time. “Got a little off track. Why am I here?”  
  
“The Cory-phe-thingy? _He—_ ” Sera points at Varric, “says you can help.”  
  
“‘Help?’ Varric could ‘help’ just as easily as I, he was there when we fought and killed Corypheus all those years ago.” He sighs. “I should’ve known _killing him_ wouldn’t kill him. When am I ever that lucky? Bastard had his goons literally out for me and Carver’s blood; something about our father...” Hawke runs a hand through his red hair, “hard to remember things when everyone’s trying to kill you.”  
  
“Is there anything you can tell us about Corypheus? Things that happened when he wasn’t trying to kill you?”  
  
“He can control the minds of Grey Wardens, darkspawn, literally anything with the taint in it? That seems like something you should know. You don’t have any Grey Wardens stumbling around do you? I had one then the number doubled when my brother joined. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice. It was either die in the deep roads or do the joining and die as a Grey Warden. He didn’t die, which I am grateful for.”  
  
“Blackwall’s in trouble then.” Sera points out.  
  
“Oh. Good. Another Grey Warden. I wasn’t at full capacity yet. I’m sure they’re delightful and how could they not be – with a name like _Blackwall_. Anders heard The Calling before Grey Wardens attacked us. No, I think it was _during_. If Corypheus is as not dead as you say this Blackwall character is in more than just ‘trouble;’ they’re probably hearing The Calling as we speak.”  
  
“You certainly know a lot of people, Hawke, did you ever meet The Hero Of Ferelden?” Lavellan glances at Sera. “What? You know you were gonna ask it.”  
  
“Unfortunately, no. Our paths didn’t cross when she spent the two days in Lothering. Busy fleeing for our lives and all that. Isabela did tell me – and Sister Nightingale confirmed – they slept together on Isabela’s old ship when she was in Denerim.” Sera whistles. “That reminds me. Varric told me Sister Nightingale is here. I should go say hi—”  
  
“Uh, hold on Hawke. Surely you have other stories to share with the kids—”  
  
“Varric.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“You said someone is going to kill you. This Cassandra, right? What did you do?”  
  
“I’m insulted, Hawke. What makes you think I did anything?”  
  
“For all your bullshit storytelling talents you were never good at lying to me.”  
  
“Not for lack of trying either.” Varric sighs, “I _may have_ told the Seeker I didn’t know where you were?” Hawke slowly runs a hand down his face. “Look. You make it seem like protecting you was a bad thing! Hawke, you have more people coming after you on a daily basis than anyone I’ve ever met and that includes quite a few Carta members I know. Call me selfish but easing your burden was the least I could do, with everything you’ve done for me. Besides, you were with Fenris and I’d rather not follow a trail of corpses to find you two.”  
  
“I’d argue but I don’t see the point. Go on.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure Cassandra wanted to find you so you could be at the conclave. While I’m sure her reasons were honorable and Maker-friendly I’m also pretty sure if you were at the conclave, you’d be dead.” He jerks a thumb at Lavellan, “we’re still trying to figure out how _this one_ escaped.” Lavellan shrugs with a grin. “Anyway, if you died you know who’d have to deal with Fenris? _Me_. Maker only knows the shit he’d get into without you as a buffer: he’d kill Junior, and Blondie, maybe Daisy too. You know he only tolerates them for your sake. Is that something you really wanna put on my conscience, Hawke? No. And it wouldn’t just be Fenris, oh no, _everyone_ would yell at me. I can picture it now—”  
  
“Alright. You made your point.” Hawke folds his arms over his chest, “now what? I doubt Corypheus is just waiting around for us to attack. He must have a gameplan or something—”  
  
“Well, we know he’s planning on assassinating Empress Celene. When I was in Therinfal Redoubt there were...things hinting at that. Plus a demon army.”  
  
“Wonderful. This is far worse than any shit I brought you into, Varric.”  
  
“Yeah.” He shrugs, “sorry about that, pal.”  
  
⚔  
  
Skyhold is literally in the middle of nowhere, and there’s no water so they were unable to continue traveling on Isabela’s ship. To make matters worse, Carver’s been complaining since they docked. Fenris is certain Hawke wouldn’t appreciate finding out his lover choked his brother to death, regardless of how much said brother deserved it (and oh does he deserve it). One would think becoming a Grey Warden would mellow Carver but no such luck. Well, it didn’t seem to help Anders why would it help Carver. _Speaking of Anders_ , he stowed away on Isabela’s ship. It took all of them: Aveline, Isabela, Carver, Charade, Merrill, Donnic, the damn dog – all of them to keep Fenris from killing the mage right then and there.  
  
“I can’t believe I’m the one saying this...” Aveline begins, “but killing him isn’t the answer.” Everyone stops walking to turn to the redhead. “ _Yes_. I know what I said. He has a lot to answer for but I believe he came here for a reason—”  
  
Isabela throws her head back with a laugh. “‘Reason?’ The only ‘reason’ Anders is here is because he’s still pining after Hawke. We get it, he grows on you. Burrows into your heart like a nug.” Isabela sighs fondly. “We all don’t go blowing up places to get his attention, though.”  
  
“That’s not why I did what I did—”  
  
“We know why you did it.” Merrill pipes in, “and Hawke understood.”  
  
“We’re not talking about this again!” Carver groans, “it happened a year ago. My brother’s been running from things ever since and I’ve never heard him complain or even bring it up again. Enough is enough.” He sighs. “Maker, I bet Evan’s having the time of his life right now.”  
  
There’s rustling in a nearby bush that has everyone going into offensive stances. “Come on out whatever you are, u-unless you’re a dragonling.” Charade says, pointing her bow and arrow at the rustling bush. A spider jumps out of the bush and Charade shoots an arrow at it before it could take another step. “Eww...” She shudders.  
  
“Is that a Hawke slash Amell thing? Being afraid of spiders?” Aveline asks, grinning.  
  
“ _I’m_ not afraid of spiders.” Carver argues. “And my brother has faced dragons, Grey Wardens, the carta, and Maker knows what else. Yet he’s afraid of spiders.” Carver sighs heavily. “I’m ashamed for him.”  
  
There’s more rustling and an elf crawls out of a different bush. “Wait!” Merrill yelps running over to the bush. “Lethallan? Garas quenathra?”  
  
The elf’s head snaps up and she stares, wide eyed, at Merrill. They have similar markings on their faces only this elf is not as pale as Merrill. “Lethallan?” She blinks then grabs Merrill’s face. “I heard. What happened in Kirkwall. Keeper Marethari...” She frowns. “Garas quenathra?”  
  
Merrill helps the other elf up, “we’re heading to Skyhold. Our friend Hawke is there.”  
  
“Skyhold? I’m going there too.” The other elf puts a rather large ax over her shoulders. “Who are the shemlen?”  
  
“Oh, right! These are my friends...” She glances at Fenris briefly, “ _maybe_. Isabela, Aveline, Carver, Fenris, Charade, Anders, Gamlen, Orana, and Donnic.” The dog barks loudly, “and Bruiser.” The other elf raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Guys, this is—”  
  
“Wait.” Isabela interrupts, squinting. “I know you. You’re Zevran’s girl. He wrote me _letters_. I could just feel how happy he was when I read them. Never thought he’d be so happy sleeping with one person.”  
  
The elf blinks. “Ah! I know you too. Leliana, Zevran, and I...”  
  
“Wait.” Anders interrupts. “You’re the former Warden-Commander. The one who recruited me. The Hero Of Ferelden.” Everyone stares at Anders then turns to the brunette elf.  
  
“You’re still alive, then? I thought the Circle would’ve gotten you—”  
  
“Oh.” Isabela snorts, “Anders made sure no Circles were getting him anytime soon. He single-handedly started the mage rebellion.”  
  
“I didn’t _single-handedly_ do it.” Everyone stares at him unconvinced. “There were problems before I intervened.”  
  
She pats Anders on the shoulder. “Nice to see you haven’t changed.”  
  
“I don’t know about that—”  
  
She fixes him with an odd look and he clears his throat. “Right. Well, to those I don’t know. I am indeed The Hero Of Ferelden but that’s a mouthful so just Mahariel is fine.” A different elf approaches. “And this is—”  
  
“Zev!”  
  
“Isabela!”  
  
The two of them run to each other and embrace dramatically. The Hero Of Ferelden seems to find it amusing. Carver pinches the bridge of his nose. With Evan gone he’s the one who needs to keep this “merry” group of misfits in order. How the hell did his brother do that? _For nine years_. Carver took his brother for granted during their time in Kirkwall. He was hardly a voice of reason growing up – that was always Bethany. Hard to believe it’s been eleven years since he’s last seen his sister and the last image he’ll never be able to get out of his mind. “Can we just focus for a second?!”  
  
“Carver’s right.” Aveline takes over. Honestly he’s not sure if he’s happy or sad. Everyone’s a little afraid of Aveline, they’ll listen to her. But no one was afraid of his brother, just how did he manage to gain their attention all the damn time? “We can talk while we walk. Varric’s letter said Corypheus is back and last time we dealt with him was bad enough I’m not looking forward to a reprise.”  
  
“Hawke, you said. Right, Lethallan?” Merrill nods. “Champion Of Kirkwall? I’ve read _The Tale Of The Champion_.” Mahariel nods to herself. “I can’t wait to meet him!”  
  
“Why are you going to Skyhold, Lethallan?”  
  
“Loghain told me he hears The Calling but not just him, _everyone_ I recruited—” The group turns to Anders.  
  
“Huh? Oh, yes. I-I do hear it faintly.”  
  
Mahariel scowls. “This is why I left the Wardens. So much drama. _That_ and the darkspawn.” She sighs. “Everyone can’t hear The Calling at the same time! It’s impossible!”  
  
“Not for Corypheus.” Carver says, “he’s causing it. He can ‘talk’ to us—”  
  
“ _Us_? You’re a Warden too?”  
  
“Technically. When every Grey Warden in the Free Marches vanished I wasn’t sure if there still was an order.”  
  
“Then why haven’t you vanished?”  
  
“I could ask you the same question.” They stare at each other. “I was on the run with my brother for a while and when I went back to the order there was no order. Then he told us through a letter we got from our friend Varric that Grey Wardens all over Thedas were disappearing.”  
  
“Your brother...?” Mahariel turns to Merrill who mouths something Carver can’t see from his angle. “Your brother is Kirkwall’s Champion!?” Carver scowls but nods. Even The Hero Of Ferelden is enamored wit his brother?! How is this his life? As everyone starts walking again, they inadvertently (or maybe they did it purposely) split up into pairs. Mahariel is with Merrill, Isabela’s with Zevran, Aveline with her husband, Charade and her father, Anders is with Orana and the dog leaving him with Fenris. Of all the companions his brother could’ve hooked up with why did it have to be _Fenris_!? Evan always had questionable taste growing up and his interests were always...abnormal. Glad to see The Champion Of Kirkwall isn’t perfect. Of course, Carver never thought his brother was perfect or any variant close to it. Admirable? Sure. But not perfect. Especially in the lover’s department. Not that Carver has any right to judge, he’s single and every girl he’s ever liked was into his oblivious older brother.  
  
Fenris is scowling a bit harder than usual and Carver doesn’t know if it’s because there’s not just one but two more elves who joined their party or if it’s Anders still here, breathing. Could be both. No, Fenris only has a problem with Merrill because she’s a blood mage not because she’s an elf. In fact that might be the only issue anyone’s ever had with Merrill. It’s physically impossible to have a problem with her otherwise. As for the Anders breathing part, Carver’s a bit pissed at that too.  
  
Skyhold better be close. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take.  
  
⚔  
  
“Inquisitor” Lavellan has a certain ring to it – an unfamiliar ring but a ring nonetheless. He’s still not used to it, he’s still not used to people calling him “Herald” or “Your Worship” and it’s been months since this inquisition began. Maybe he’s just not used to the attention. In the clan he was largely ignored for being too small or too disinterested. The only person who’d notice his disappearance was the person who told him to go in the first place. Keeper Deshanna was initially going to send her first to the conclave but later decided sending _a mage_ to a meeting where people were arguing _about mages_ wasn’t the best course of action. There was a small argument but those two always argue. In the end he went in her stead and well the rest is history.  
  
When they heard he was alive, Keeper Deshanna wrote back a generic letter claiming “the clan” (i.e. she) is happy to hear from him and to know he’s alive. In a private, attached letter she wishes him well and hopes he finds happiness outside the clan since he clearly wasn’t finding it within. Unlike everyone else, The Keeper actually supported him. He’d guess that support was one of the jobs of being Keeper but he’s seen her shut down some ideas from other hunters. Hell, she shut down some ideas from her first too.  
  
After Haven, well _exploded_ , he wrote The Keeper a letter letting her know he’s still alive. Not necessarily _well_ but alive. She wrote him back thankful he hasn’t lost his (unique) sense of humor in spite of everything that’s happened.  
  
After rereading her letter the seventh time he comes to the conclusion that he misses her. He’d ask her to come for a visit but he has a feeling that won’t go over well with the rest of the clan. They’ll probably hate him more, if that were possible. (Assuming they still consider him a member.) Know what? He closed a fucking hole in the sky, he’s allowed a damn boon!  
  
It’s a good thing he’s not afraid of heights because they put his bedroom (as grand as it is) pretty fucking high up. All those damn stairs. He’s tripped more times than he’d care to admit. Fortunately, he was reading Keeper Deshanna’s letter in the garden (and he has to wonder why he does that to himself with his allergies. Of all the things to be allergic to, why elfroot? That was just another reason for being shunned.) As he’s heading to the main entrance to see what Josephine can do about bringing The Keeper over he hears a thud. Despite common misconceptions, having large “knife” ears do not give him super hearing.  
  
There’s another thud, coming in the direction of that building he’s not sure the name of. It’s where Cassandra goes to contemplate where she went wrong in life. (The first thing would be creating The Inquisition, in his opinion.) Of all the things he was expecting to find when he opened the door, Cassandra choking Varric was not one of them.  
  
Oh! He should intervene! Varric promised to teach him to play diamondback. _Oh_ and he’s being choked to death. That’s important too. He runs over to them prying Cassandra’s hands from Varric’s throat. “I’m sure this can be solved by talking.”  
  
“You sure about that?” Varric rasps.  
  
“Let me start off by asking: what the hell!”  
  
“He knew where Hawke was the entire time!” Cassandra grips the table and it could be his imagination but Lavellan’s sure he heard something _crack_. “We needed someone to lead the inquisition—”  
  
“What are you talking about, Seeker? The inquisition _has_ a leader. Red hair? Glowing left hand? Standing next to us?”  
  
Cassandra lets out a frustrated growl. “Leliana and I searched for The Hero Of Ferelden but she vanished then we set out to find The Champion Of Kirkwall but he was gone too. We thought it was a coincidence but it wasn’t, it was all Varric.”  
  
“It wasn’t _all_ Varric, The Hero Of Ferelden did go missing. Also, can you honestly blame him, Cassandra? He protected his friend, there’s nothing wrong with that, plus you abducted him and forced him to tell you about Hawke—”  
  
“ _I—_ ” She huffs. “What did he tell you?”  
  
“I told him exactly what happened!”  
  
Cassandra’s eyes narrow. “Speaking of _tell_ , I’m beginning to wonder if anything you told me about The Champion was true.”  
  
“I couldn’t make up half the shit Hawke did. Although I wish I could. I did use a bit for my stories though—” He clears his throat. “Everything I told you about Hawke was one-hundred percent true. If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself.” Cassandra’s right eye twitches. “I think Hawke was in the library—”  
  
“Dwarf—”  
  
“I forgot about the little crush you developed on Hawke, not that anyone would find fault. Lots of people developed crushes on Hawke. I assure you he’s far more humble than he seems.”  
  
“Uh, Varric, I think you should...” Lavellan jerks his head to the door.  
  
“Right. I...right.” He nods then walks off.  
  
Cassandra mutters something then slumps into the chair. “I was a fool. I can’t believe I—”  
  
“Did you see The Inquisition you put together, Cassandra? I think it’s safe to say we’re _all_ fools.” She shakes her head, hint of a smile on her face. “Do you really think Hawke would’ve made a difference?”  
  
“I don’t know. Hawke is a mage who openly supported the rebellion. Some even say he was the one who started it. He even let the man responsible for destroying Kirkwall’s chantry live. Truthfully, I do not believe he would’ve even agreed to meet Most Holy let alone help.” She sighs, “I should apologize.”  
  
“To Varric?”  
  
“ _What? No!_ To you.” Lavellan blinks. “I do not regret you becoming inquisitor. If anything, I am proud to know you...” She pauses, “even if I don’t agree with all your decisions.”  
  
“Hey, every person that disagrees with me keeps us balanced. The Inquisition wouldn’t make sense if everyone hung off my every word—”  
  
“You realize that’s what some of your followers _do_ , right?”  
  
“I... _what_? Seriously?”  
  
Cassandra chuckles, “you certainly have an interesting method to make someone feel better, Inquisitor.”  
  
“Oh, you’re feeling better. That means you won’t kill Varric if I go to my quarters?”  
  
“I promise I will not harm the Dwarf.”  
  
“That’s all anyone can ask for.”  
  
“Did you meet him? The Champion?” Lavellan stares at her briefly before raising an eyebrow. “Why must you look at me like that? It is a simple question.”  
  
“Uh-huh. Do you want me to introduce you?”  
  
A strange look crosses Cassandra’s face in the blink of an eye. “That is unnecessary Inquisitor but I appreciate the offer.” She stands, nodding at him. He nods back then watches her leave.  
  
Once that crisis has been successfully averted, he makes his way to Josephine – or he would if Sera didn’t pop up out of nowhere and sling an arm over his shoulder. “Got an inquisitor favor to ask.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah. Got a Red Jenny tip. I need you to have a talk with your people at the big table to make a march through Verchiel happen.”  
  
“Uh-huh. What?”  
  
Sera groans. “A march. Through Verchiel. Piss off some nobles. The usual fun stuff.”  
  
“Hmm. Why the hell not? I’ll talk to ‘my people at the big table.’”  
  
“It’s all good, innit? Oh and I found a batch of cookies for roof time later~” She heads back toward the tavern.  
  
Inside the little hallway before the war room is The Champion Of Kirkwall sitting on Josephine’s desk as the woman in question is in her chair laughing. “That couldn’t have happened!”  
  
“I don’t have Varric’s talent for embellishing. Oh, hey Inquisitor.” Josephine waves in between chuckles. “I was talking to your ambassador. Having people keep a lookout for any...” He coughs, “guests.”  
  
“That glowing guy Varric mentioned?”  
  
“ _Him_ , for one. Another is my little brother. Then there’s my cousin, my uncle, my dog, and the rest of my friends who ‘helped’ me in Kirkwall.”  
  
“Champion, do you really think they’ll _all_ show up?”  
  
Hawke looks over his shoulder at Josephine. “I’m assuming Varric hasn’t told you any tales about anyone who wasn’t me?” She shakes her head. “They’re coming. We only split up when we did because _everyone_ was after us. Once people started going crazy fighting one another no one was fighting us – well no one aside from the occasional rogue templar. We found one another except for Varric, which was worrying. Varric doesn’t just _disappear_ he was born in Kirkwall and claimed that’s where he’d die. Then Carver came back to us saying all the wardens he knew weren’t at their base. Then _months later_ we get a letter from Varric about warden disappearances, Corypheus resurfacing, and this Inquisition.”  
  
“Sounds like you all are very close.”  
  
“They’re my family. I...” He frowns, “don’t have a lot of blood relatives left so I keep the rest of my family as close as I can.” Josephine pats him on the leg in comfort. “Thanks. I’m usually not this sappy. Now, I know they’re coming – they’re probably on their way. It’s not like we’re taking a break from fighting templars at my place. Damn. I bet squatters took over my family’s estate, _again_.” He shakes his head, “as much as I’m looking forward to seeing everyone I really have no say in them staying.”  
  
“Oh! This is where I comment. I don’t mind. Any friends of yours and Varric’s is welcome here. Besides, I’m interested.”  
  
“In meeting Fenris? Who isn’t.” Hawke grins, “as long as you’re not a blood mage or slaver he’ll have no problems with you.” Sighing dreamily, Hawke swings his legs back and forth. “I am looking forward to seeing Fenris.”  
  
“How long has it been since you last saw him?”  
  
“Nearly freezing to death has distorted my sense of time. Last time I saw Fenris I was leaving. He was too busy arguing to give me a proper kiss goodbye. Damn, thinking about it pisses me off. Carver and I need to have words when I see him.” Hawke folds his arms over his chest then tilts his head. “How about a trade, Inquisitor? I show you my friends if you show me yours? Wait, that didn’t come out right.”  
  
“I get it. I’d be happy to introduce you to everyone. I need to ask Josephine for a favor first.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I need a way to contact Keeper Deshanna and bring her here, at least for a few days.”  
  
“Just your clan’s keeper?” Lavellan nods. “Very well, Inquisitor. I shall see what can be done.”  
  
Lavellan breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”  
  
“I might not be able to get her, Inquisitor.”  
  
“I know but giving it a try means more to me than you know.”  
  
“O-Oh. In that case I am happy to help.”  
  
Hawke slides off the desk. “Let’s go meet some people!”  
  
The battlements is the first stop. Cullen’s in his office, to say he looks surprised to see Hawke is an understatement. “Champion? I, what are you doing here? Have you joined the Inquisition?”  
  
“Have I? Hard to say really. I see you swapped the templar outfit for something fancier.” Hawke nods to himself. “This one suits you.” Cullen rubs the back of his neck (adorably).  
  
“I left the order—”  
  
“Your boss _did_ turn into a statue. Who could blame you?”  
  
“Yes. How could anyone forget?” Cullen sighs. “That wasn’t the only reason for leaving the order.”  
  
“Oh!” Lavellan elbows Hawke, “we have to fill you in on venatori and red templars.”  
  
“ _Red_? Templars?” Both Cullen and Lavellan nod.  
  
“They use a red lyrium—”  
  
“Something Varric _conveniently_ forgot to mention in his letters, I assure you. His crazy brother Bartrand is the reason red lyrium even made it to the surface and that was before he nearly got my little brother killed!” He sighs. “I’ll be happy, and I use the term loosely, to read any red templar reports after I get acquainted with everyone.”  
  
“Right. We have more people to meet.”  
  
The tavern’s the last place to go, Hawke already met Sera and Cole should be introduced carefully – and away from other people, as there’s no telling anyone’s reaction him to meeting him. At least, they’re not meeting Cole inside their head. That was some freaky shit, even given the circumstances. _Plus_ , heading to the tavern means seeing Bull and clearly the guy’s not interested or (and this is very likely) Lavellan’s piss-poor flirting attempts gets misinterpreted. Besides, people talk and a lot of people, mostly women, have slept with Bull. _A. Lot. Of. People_. Lavellan highly doubts he (or anyone really) wants a severely inexperienced partner, Inquisitor or no. The only experience being ostracized gave him was killing things with his bare hands, then later with weapons. The mere thought is depressing as hell. A fade rift could appear and swallow him whole and he’d be okay.  
  
Cassandra’s little area is the second to last stop. He’s not about to get hit for catching her off guard. Hopefully, people will talk like they always do and she’ll get some kind of forewarning.  
  
Solas, as it turns out, is a fan of The Champion. Unlike most fans, he didn’t read Varric’s book and become enamored. Solas did... Solas type things. When he journeyed into the fade near Kirkwall, post chantry explosion, he found some interesting stories (or knowledge or whatever Solas goes into the fade for). Not to mention Hawke is a fellow mage who fought to free oppressed mages everywhere. If there’s one physical non spirit related thing Solas loves it’s when people fight for the oppressed.  
  
Vivienne applauded Hawke’s skills, for someone never taught in a Circle. He and his late younger sister Bethany (his little brother Carver’s fraternal twin) were taught by their late father, Malcolm, also a mage – and the reason they were never in any Circles. As Hawke sorta helped destroy everything she loves about Circles that’s pretty much the only good thing she said about him. Oh, she also called him adorable and not condescendingly either.  
  
Scout Harding bumps into them and gapes a bit. Hawke autographs her copy of _The Tale Of The Champion_ and she shakes his hand for about three minutes before regaining her composure.  
  
Dagna’s only interested in Hawke because he’s a mage. Hawke talks to her about someone named Sandal, who used to live with him, and how he used to enchant things. He then gives her some things Sandal enchanted and that gave her a weird sense of motivation to try and match them.  
  
Cole finds them during his daily roaming and Hawke is probably the only person, aside from Lavellan himself and maybe Solas, to find Cole’s uniqueness interesting instead of threatening. Hawke watches with fascination as Cole helps heal a former templar’s pain regarding the way he felt about mages. “That’s amazing! How—just, wow.” He’s bouncing on his feet. This is the part of Hawke not mentioned in his story. “You do this all the time?”  
  
“No. Not all the time. Just when the pain calls me.” Hawke tilts his head in confusion. “They hurt and I help the hurt.”  
  
“So if I was hurting you’d feel it?”  
  
“Blues glowing bright, brighter than ever before. ‘Not again, never again.’ You can’t lose anyone else, especially him. It’s hollow. _Everything_ is hollow. Nothing feels the same, nothing makes sense without him by your side.”  
  
Hawke blinks. “I...damn. That’s really fucking cool—”  
  
“Most people don’t get excited hearing their pain told to them.”  
  
Hawke pats Lavellan on the head, “you’ll understand when you’re older, kid.”  
  
“He misses you too.” They turn to Cole. “It doesn’t hurt so much when you’re near.”  
  
“You feel Fenris—”  
  
“Nu-uh. I know where this is heading. Thanks, Cole. Let’s go meet other people, Hawke.”  
  
“Wait! I want to know if he can relay messages!”  
  
Leliana rarely leaves the rookery if she’s not relaying messages to her tiny spy birds and even then it’s in some secretive way even they don’t understand. Oh and when she’s in the war room with the other advisers. Leliana has her feet on the table as she leans back in the chair. “I was expecting you, Champion.”  
  
“Did you get scarier?” He turns to Lavellan, “she got scarier.”  
  
“I wouldn’t know, she’s as scary as she’s been since we met.”  
  
Leliana laughs, “pity it took so long for you two to meet. I assume you stopped Cassandra from killing Varric, Inquisitor?” He nods. “That’s the last time we send Cassandra to look for someone.” She taps her feet against the table. “Have you been well, Champion?”  
  
“Not much of a ‘Champion’ all things considered but yeah I’m fine. You still go by Sister Nightingale?”  
  
“Occasionally. Leliana is fine—”  
  
“Only if you stop calling me _Champion_.”  
  
“Fair enough, Hawke.” They nod at each other and before Lavellan can think about what just happened Leliana smiles. “Josie tells me you’re expecting company?”  
  
“Oh, yes. Of course, _I_ don’t consider them company but you guys might. Maybe _you_ wouldn’t, all things considered.”  
  
Leliana nods, with a smile. “It is always good to catch up with old friends.”  
  
“Is that what they call it?”  
  
“It is. Inquisitor when you have a moment we should speak, privately.”  
  
“Sure, that’s not ominous at all. A pleasure as always Leliana.” She nods at Hawke.  
  
Mother Giselle’s interest in the champion was surprising. They spoke for what seemed like hours (and could’ve very well _been hours_ ) about views on magic and mages. Hawke’s not as devout most humans Lavellan’s met through The Inquisition, so they didn’t talk much about The Maker and things on that subject. Considering Lavellan grew up Dalish, he has less input on that subject than Hawke. ~~Hell, he wouldn’t even be able to talk about all the elven gods.~~  
  
When they finally meet up with Cassandra she’s with Blackwall. It’s unexpected but it means they can knock out introducing Hawke to Blackwall. “So you’re the Champion Of Kirkwall.”  
  
Hawke glances at Lavellan who nods, “you’re a Grey Warden.”  
  
“I, uh, yes?”  
  
“Do you hear The Calling?”  
  
“The—what? No. I don’t hear anything.”  
  
“You _don’t_? Is it because Skyhold is so remote?” Hawke taps his chin. “I guess that’ll make things easier for Carver. He was always extra whiny when sick or in pain.”  
  
“Hawke, this is Cassandra—”  
  
“The woman who tried to kill Varric?” Hawke shakes her hand. “Don’t worry, lots of people try to kill that guy. Not that it’s a competition to be proud of but I definitely have more people trying to kill me. Anyway, I’m sure Varric deserved it, nice meeting you.”  
  
Cassandra nods jerkily. “And you as well.”  
  
When Hawke lets go of her hand Cassandra stares at it for a bit before putting it at her side. Cassandra having hero worship syndrome for Hawke would make for an interesting story. Too bad no one will believe him. Turns out Hawke already met Dorian when he was in the library (as foretold by Varric), apparently they chatted (i.e. flirted, because it’s Dorian) and discussed the best ways to kill with magic. Honestly, Lavellan’s grateful he missed that conversation. ~~The Keeper always told him he was a bit sensitive to magic, probably why the damn anchor affected him.~~ Dorian practices necromancy, which _sounds_ as bad as one might think, and Hawke does something called “force magic.” They already began trading spells. Last time he’s gonna leave Dorian alone with a new mage.  
  
Knight, uh he’s no longer a knight since the templars disbanded but Barris’ heard of The Champion Of Kirkwall. Considering Hawke was _against_ templars and helped start a _mage rebellion_ he became a taboo and controversial topic among the order. Didn’t stop Barris for asking for an autograph for his copy of _The Tale Of The Champion_.  
  
Lavellan did a good job avoiding the tavern but Hawke’s eventually gonna wonder 1) why they never came in here and 2) who is the Qunari roaming around. With Hawke’s history he’s gonna notice a lone Qunari just walking about. Lavellan’s had enough Qunari trouble for one lifetime and this was _before_ he met then subsequently became infatuated with Iron Bull. No, _The_ Iron Bull.  
  
Although he lost his memories about the explosion resulting in the “anchor” on his left hand, he remembers he wasn’t the only person sent to spy on the conclave. After all, this wasn’t just a mage and templar thing anymore – it affected all of Thedas. The carta, mercenaries, nobles, _everyone_ sent someone to gather information. He just so happened to be the unlucky envoy from Clan Lavellan. Prior to everything exploding he met a Qunari mercenary named Adaar; he called himself a vashoth and said he worked for something called Valo-Kas. Upon meeting Bull, Lavellan asked what a “Vashoth” was and he got an explanation through gritted teeth about madness and those not loyal to the Qun, otherwise known as _Tal-_ Vashoth. He’s heard of the Qun, read about it. His clan mistook his curiosity for an interest in converting. Needless to say, it did not go over well.  ~~Conversion would make him what they call viddathari.~~ Even before Adaar and Bull, he’s met Qunari; his clan didn’t just run from humans.  
  
Anyway, Adaar called him “Kid” and had all sorts of short jokes lined up. When shit started exploding and _spiders_ of all things started flying out of every corner they fought together to stay alive. Adaar was a mage but not proficient in healing (go figure), fortunately Lavellan broke enough of his bones to know how to put them back in place. Helping Adaar didn’t exactly give him enough time to escape and all his work could’ve been for nothing because there was a very small possibility of Adaar’s survival. Things got hazy the further he went into the building though. Any number of things could’ve happened if things didn’t play out the way they did. He could be dead and Adaar the Inquisition’s Inquisitor. If people thought a Dalish Elf Inquisitor was heresy he could only imagine what they’d think of a Qunari Inquisitor. _Or_ they’d both be dead. That was also possible.  
  
“—And I thought I had weird friends. Bet it never gets dull around here. I can’t wait to see who's next.” Shit. Next, well last really, is Bull. He might be with The Chargers though, that’ll give Lavellan time to slip away before he embarrasses himself.  
  
As soon as he steps foot in the tavern, everyone cheers Hawke’s name. “Ah, reminds me of Kirkwall.” He goes around introducing himself, autographing copies of The Tale Of The Champion (Varric must’ve made a killing on that book), then he meets Krem.  
  
_Someone_ buys Hawke a drink he’s nursing his second bottle when he clinks bottles with Krem. “You’re the only person who can say they fought a Qunari Arishok in single combat and lived.”  
  
“I broke my right leg and a few ribs but fortunately I knew a damn good healer. The real thing’s not as glamorous as Varric wrote.”  
  
“Still impressive. The Chief’s a Qunari. Think you can take him on?”  
  
“You’re shitting me.” Krem shakes his head. “As long as it’s not a fight to the death I’ll gladly do it. Where is he?”  
  
Krem waves his bottle around, “ _around_. He’s been...depressed lately. Didn’t think he could be depressed before now. It’s got something to do with the letters Ben-Hassrath agents send him.”  
  
“He’s Ben-Hassrath?”  
  
“What do you know about that?”  
  
“They’re spies, enforcers, they basically keep order among The Qun.” Krem raises an eyebrow. “Hey, I was Basalit-an. The only reason I dueled the Arishok to the death was because he respected me. I didn’t completely agree but I did respect some Qunari customs. Wasn’t a fan of the fighting to the death ones, though. Anyway, I had to brush up on my Qunlat. Fenris knew some words and phrases so he taught me, he also taught me some Tevene although he mostly swears in that language.”  
  
“Tevene? You know someone from Tevinter?”  
  
“Yeah...” He sighs contently, “I’ll introduce you to him when he gets here. As long as you don’t mention magisters or slavery – ooh, that reminds me to talk to Dorian later.”  
  
⚔  
  
Hawke seemed to fit right in with the inquisition, he would’ve made a damn fine inquisitor – anchor mark notwithstanding. He does seem content to let Lavellan do the leading, however. Perhaps it’s because he had all of Kirkwall looking at him. If anyone deserves a break it’s Hawke. True to his word once he and Bull met, they squared off in a hand to hand fight. Despite being a mage, Hawke’s pretty damn good with his fists. He might’ve lost but seeing this first hand now makes Varric’s telling of the barefisted fight against the Arishok sound more believable.  
  
“Damn, Hawke, I had no idea you could do that. _Any of that_.” The redhead shrugs. “For what it’s worth, you are providing excellent material. You don’t mind if I use this, do you? I don’t even need to exaggerate.”  
  
“Sure, Varric, go crazy.” Varric pats him on the back. A fraction of the healers are making sure he has no broken bones. Hawke’s tall, sure, but everyone’s small compared to Iron Bull. Meanwhile, the majority of them are attending to/ogling/feeling up Bull.  
  
“You don’t know how much I missed you, buddy. A storyteller’s luster can only go so far without the proper muse backing him.”  
  
“I’m surprised you’re not writing about The Inquisition.”  
  
“Maybe. I mean, The Inquisitor certainly is muse worthy. He gets into all kinds of things. Not only that but he may have a worse sense of direction than Daisy. Before I saw it first hand I never though something like that was possible.”  
  
“‘The Inquisitor?’”  
  
“Yeah. What about him?”  
  
“No nickname? I’m shocked.”  
  
“Haven’t thought of one that suits him. It’s the same problem I had with Aveline. Must be something with redheads.”  
  
“Hair color can’t be an issue. For one, _I_ am a redhead. Secondly, you called Anders _Blondie_. And before you say anything need I remind you that you, in fact, are blond.”  
  
“Okay. So it’s merely a coincidence I can’t find good nicknames for two redheads I know.” Varric grumbles. “I think better on paper anyway.”  
  
“Speaking of paper, it’s been a while since we placed Wicked Grace.”  
  
“ _You_ maybe. Or did you mean together because if you did, I’m already way ahead of you. Different friends but ultimately the same result. Since you and I are so close I’ll give you a forewarning not to bet against Ruffles. Unless you’re not fond of your clothes.”  
  
“Thanks. I’m only fond of losing my clothes if it involves bathing or Fenris. Ooh or bathing with Fenris—”  
  
“Maker, I nearly forgot the one-track mind you possess when it comes to The Broody Elf. Hawke, I tell you this as your best friend – you sure can pick ‘em.” Hawke nods with a smile. “Come on. Playing cards will take your mind off him.”  
  
“If I didn’t need the coin for the deep roads expedition we never would’ve met.”  
  
“So it’s my fault, indirectly, that you have this dumb grin on your face whenever you mention Fenris?” Hawke nods slowly. “Great. Thanks for the reminder.”  
  
“Hey, I have to listen to strangers regale me in my exaggerated life story, Varric, I’d say we’re not even close to being balanced.”  
  
“Hawke.” He and Varric stop walking as Leliana approaches, “are you familiar with Loghain Mac Tir?” Hawke and Varric exchange a glance. “I never thought he’d still be with the wardens and be in _Orlais_ of all places. I see he didn’t waste the second chance he was given. King Alistair was furious with The Hero Of Ferelden after she decided to spare him. They even stopped talking for a while after that. With everything he did, execution seemed the only solution. She was, however, always a bit unconventional.”  
  
“Right.” Varric begins with a nod, “you traveled with The Hero Of Ferelden, of course you’d know Loghain.”  
  
“My brother told me about what happened at Ostagar all those years ago but beyond that I know nothing of him.”  
  
Leliana nods slowly, “I see. Well, _he_ —” She hands a letter to Hawke, “knows of you. Apparently someone named Stroud gave him a message to give to you.”  
  
“Stroud?”  
  
“Didn’t he save Junior’s life in the deep roads?”  
  
“Yeah. I also had him look into the Grey Warden thing after the ‘issue’ with my father’s blood. I guess this is something to tell The Inquisitor. Thanks, Leliana.”  
  
“I don’t think _thanks_ is required, not yet anyway.”  
  
Considering he is their leader, Lavellan is a popular guy. Never where you expect him to be – well, according to Varric, that’s more a _him_ thing than _an Inquisitor_ thing. Evidently, Inquisitor Lavellan and Sera like to sit in high places and watch things fall (by “watch things fall” he means “drop things and see the impact they make”). Varric says they’re usually on the tavern roof but today they’re in a tree tossing _raisins_ into baskets with disturbing accuracy. This weird ass elf behavior reminds him of Merrill. Sera didn’t have any markings on her face and he distinctly remembers her say something was “too elfy” for her so she’s _obviously_ not Dalish. Great, he can just picture her and Merrill talking. _That’ll_ be pleasant. Although, Lavellan is clearly Dalish and they seem to— _no_ , the only remotely elven thing he’s mentioned, since they met, was his keeper.  
  
“Inquisitor!” Sera hangs upside down from a branch. “Uh, and Sera. Do you two have a minute?”  
  
They do some weird secret eyebrow movement that’s one-hundred percent Sera and Lavellan (and not elven in the slightest). “Sure!” Sera says, “what do you need?”  
  
Hawke holds up the letters. “Some Grey Warden information.”  
  
⚔  
  
The war table is huge. Hawke never did much of the planning when he was in Kirkwall ~~; never did any before Kirkwall either~~. Varric seemed to know everything, about almost everything, so all paper related anythings were handled in his room at The Hanged Man. Said paper usually ended up halfway in someone’s drink before the “meeting” ended, though. Those were good times.  
  
“Should we trust Loghain?” Cullen asks, looking around the room. He’s met with various perplexed expressions. “Honesty’s never been his strong suit.”  
  
“Lying about contacting The Hero Of Ferelden? No one would believe him, given their history.” Leliana smooths out the letter, “ _although_ , everyone knows she let him undergo the joining instead of killing him or having Alistair kill him. I don’t think it’s a lie.”  
  
“Doesn’t answer the question about trusting him.”  
  
“I don’t have an answer for that, Commander. I say we investigate Crestwood and see what he has to say. Scout Harding has already left with a handful of my spies. You’ll want to give her at least a day to see what we have to work with.”  
  
Lavellan nods. “Hey, uh, where’s Crestwood?” Hawke asks, leaning on the war table a bit.  
  
Leliana scans the map before putting a pin down. “Ferelden. They say it was nearly destroyed by the blight. Like so many other places.” She sighs. “Have you been back to Ferelden, since leaving Kirkwall?”  
  
“No, but to be fair this is my first time in Orlais. As a native Fereldan I have to say I’m underwhelmed.” He shrugs, “but all I’ve seen is this mountain and the mountains I had to cross to get here.”  
  
“Then where were you? I mean, where did you go to avoid the Exalted March that never came?”  
  
“Would you believe me if I said I went to Starkhaven?”  
  
“Not a chance, _Red_. Whether he rules or not I doubt Choir Boy would’ve let you step foot in his city.”  
  
“Glad you didn’t bet on that because while Fenris and I roamed The Free Marches we did visit Starkhaven briefly.” Varric eyes him warily. “Honest. We also traveled with Merrill’s clan for a while – they were having trouble deciding on who should be their new keeper and I sorta helped. It was unintentional but it kept them from killing one another.”  
  
“Wow.” Everyone says.  
  
“‘Wow?’ Wow what?”  
  
“Now I understand why Cassandra wanted to kill you, Varric.” Leliana says. Cullen and Josephine nod in agreement.  
  
“Yeah. Hawke has this weird effect on people. A ray of sunshine, this one. He even impressed my brother, before he tried to kill us that is.”  
  
Josephine taps her chin. “I have to say, Varric, your book doesn’t do Hawke justice.”  
  
“Tell me about it. He’s much more unbelievable in person, I speak from experience on that. The book was more on Hawke’s actions than his personality. It’s a nice hidden gem I get to throw at people when they least expect it. Plus, I embellished...a lot. My editor made me. She said if I wrote Hawke as is no one would believe me. It’s _true_ but...” He shrugs. “He wasn’t what I expected when we first met.”  
  
Hawke grins at Varric before nudging Lavellan. “Do you have any input, Inquisitor? About the Loghain thing, not the _me_ thing.”  
  
“I’d say there’s no harm in seeing what this Loghain wants but that would probably be a lie. Still, we don’t have any other leads. You know this Stroud fellow, right? Then this can’t completely be a waste of time.” Everyone looks around at one another. “I said a _complete_ waste of time.”  
  
⚔  
  
“Lady Cassandra!” A few dozen inquisition scouts all but drag her to the entrance. She’s not an adviser but that never stopped people from asking for her input – or directing the nearest ex-templar her way. In the distance, there’s a man in a Grey Warden uniform with a dog approaching. It’s been less than a week since Hawke arrived in Skyhold. For the most part, Cassandra’s been avoiding the man but The Maker has one grand sense of humor. That should’ve been obvious considering he sent Lavellan their way: Andraste’s herald and their leader who rarely takes anything seriously. He spends most of his free time with Sera, of all people.  
  
Varric rounded up the “gang” to play Wicked Grace and Cassandra should’ve known Hawke would join them. Not only did he join, he won. He even beat Josephine and no one’s done that since they started playing. ~~Apparently playing against cheaters for over ten years made him one hell of a player.~~  
  
The man holds up his hands in surrender. “My name is Carver Hawke, I’m a Grey Warden and I believe you have my older brother here.” 


	2. grow

The guards look at the man, the man’s mabari, turn to Cassandra, then look at the man again. Admittedly, he bears resemblance to The Champion and Varric’s “Tale Of The Champion” had semblances of truth to it. _However_ , that little imp did – in fact – flat-out _lie_ about knowing Hawke’s whereabouts so there’s no telling what _else_ Varric lied about. To her face, no less. Fortunately, Cullen – a far more reliable source of information – was in Kirkwall the same time as The Champion, so if _anyone_ knew whether Hawke truly had a brother or not it was him. “Get The Commander.” A guard nods then sprints off in the direction of the battlements.  
  
“Lady Cassandra, should we alert The Champion as well?”  
  
“Not yet.” The guards nod, “Carver, was it? Your mabari will have to stay with the guards.”  
  
“He’s not _my_ mabari but I understand.”  
  
“Good. Follow me.” The man – _Carver_ – nods then follows her into the building. When they enter the kitchen, Cullen is already there.  
  
The blond stands from his stool and blinks, “Carver?”  
  
The look of recognition on Carver’s face answers any question of them knowing each other. “Huh. Varric was right.” He approaches Cullen and shakes his hand, “it’s good seeing you. Turned in your templar armor for something fancier?”  
  
Cullen shakes his head fondly. “Your brother said the same thing.”  
  
That gets a grimace out of Carver. “Speaking of my brother, thank you for… you know. Keeping an eye on him, I guess. I mean you could’ve turned him in at any given moment. Plus, you did come to our aid with Meredith.”  
  
“Your brother did help Kirkwall.”  
  
“I _suppose_ that’s true.”  
  
“Now am I to assume the others are right outside the gates?”  
  
“Others?” Cassandra echoes.  
  
“Oh. I did not see you there, Seeker. The Champion’s inner circle was never too far from him. In fact, I’m surprised he did not come with Fenris.”  
  
“Yeah...” Carver rubs the back of his neck, “I know I’m gonna get blamed for that.”  
  
Cassandra takes a deep breath. If she didn’t already promise The Inquisitor she wouldn’t murder Varric… she’d. Murder. Varric. Not only did he know where Hawke was, he probably knew where all of them disappeared to! The only person Cassandra was able to question, aside from Varric, was Aveline who didn’t seem interested in leaving Kirkwall like the others.  
  
Cassandra sees Cullen pinching the bridge of his nose, “I suppose we should just get this over with.”  
  
⚔  
  
Sure enough, there is a small group of people converged around the Skyhold main gate. Cassandra recognizes Aveline and Varric had incredibly vague descriptions of the rest of Hawke’s inner circle. Hell, he hadn’t even properly described Hawke!  
  
As Cullen sighs, Cassandra nods to the guards and the gates open. “ _Oh_ , is that the Knight-Commander?” She hears someone ask.  
  
“Hey, Carver, you wouldn’t believe who we bumped into when you ran off!” A brunette yells approaching them. “Hi. Charade Amell and this is my cousin. My _other_ cousin.” There’s another brunette with her hair in a ponytail similar to The Champion’s. “She helped The Hero Of Ferelden with the Blight!” Cassandra does a double take because _The Hero Of Ferelden nods in confirmation_. Nowhere did any _anything_ ever saw Hawke knew The Maker-Created Hero Of Ferelden!  
  
“I thought you were dead.” Cullen gasps.  
  
The brunette blinks, squints, then puts her hands on her hips. “Disappointed, Rutherford? During the chaos of the circle I left.”  
  
“How?”  
  
The brunette smirks, “I'm an Amell There is very little I can't do.” Carver sighs. _Great_. It’s hereditary. That sounds just like something Evan would say. “In all seriousness, though? I put on the templar armor and walked right out the front door. Granted, security wasn’t as tight as usual. I doubt I would’ve gotten away with that if every templar wasn’t busy dying or, you know, getting tortured.” Everyone turns to Cullen who pointedly clears his throat.  
  
“This reunion is nice and whatever—” Mahariel interrupts, “but I came here with every intention of meeting both The Champion and Inquisitor.”  
  
Huh. If she came here intending to meet Hawke, they never met before. It’s possible they missed each other during the hero of Ferelden’s brief time in Lothering. In any event, Mahariel was already making her way past the stunned guards inside of Skyhold.  
  
“Oh.” That was Leliana’s voice. She and Mahariel stare at each other before the brunette takes one _huge_ step back. _Right._ Leliana traveled with The Hero Of Ferelden during The Blight. Not sure what The Hero Of Ferelden did to warrant that response, though. A blond elf bearing no resemblance to any half-assed description Varric gave, was at The Hero Of Ferelden’s side in an instant. “Mahariel. Zevran.”  
  
“Leliana!” He greets. “Good to see you.” The hero of Ferelden merely nods slowly. “We came to see The Inquisitor – among other things. Is he here?”  
  
Leliana frowns, “no, actually.”  
  
Everyone turns to her. “No?!” Cassandra walks over to the spymaster, “what do you mean _no_?”  
  
“Hmmm...” Leliana folds her arms over her chest, “it’s actually a pretty funny story when you think about it.” Cassandra scowls. “I severely underestimated the Inquisitor; fear not, I won’t make that mistake again.”  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“Well, we know the Inquisitor was a skilled hunter in his clan...” Leliana trails off with a frown.  
  
“Leliana—”  
  
“I’m not sure what happened. I know he used Sera as a distraction but sometime _before_ that he smuggled himself, The Champion, Varric, Dorian, our ambassador, and Lady Vivienne out of Skyhold.”  
  
“He used Sera as a distraction? How big was it?”  
  
The guards hang their heads. “We’re still cleaning the honey off the walls, Lady Cassandra.”  
  
“What makes you think he left before Sera distracted you?”  
  
“My agents were doing their normal reports, but there were too many sightings of the Inquisitor given his natural speed and agility. Turns out he placed look-a-likes all over Skyhold _and_ had Sera distract us further.”  
  
“Wait. Hawke’s gone?” Leliana nods then blinks in what Cassandra will _assume_ is surprise. “Damn, that’s not...” The brunette – Isabela, if the pirate garb is anything to go by – casts a look over her shoulder. She clears her throat before glancing back at Leliana. _A look_ crosses her face so briefly Cassandra’s not sure she made it at all. “I don’t suppose you know where they are, huh?”  
  
“I’m the Inquisition’s spymaster—”  
  
Isabela raises an eyebrow. “That’s not a yes.”  
  
“It’s not a no.”  
  
⚔  
  
“We’re checking out the Loghain thing?”  
  
Hawke sees identical frowns cross the Inquisitor— _Lavellan_ , he of all people should know better than to simply address someone by title. Anyway, Dorian and Lavellan are frowning before the latter shakes his head, casting a glance at the former who shrugs. “Gotta take care of something first.”  
  
“Mysterious.” Varric muses, “and we’re here to provide back-up, I assume?”  
  
“I’m here to get out of Skyhold before Fenris arrives and murders me for leaving him in the first place.” Hawke sighs. “Of all the stupid things...”  
  
“What makes you so sure Fenris is arriving at this specific moment?”  
  
“It’s a feeling. Can’t describe it. When you spend three—no, sorry, when you spend seven years pining after someone you develop a bit of a tracker. Fenris. Is. At. Skyhold...” Hawke swallows thickly, “waiting for me.”  
  
“Wait.” Dorian does a double take, “you... _you—_ ” He gestures wildly at the redhead, “spent _seven years of your life_ pining after a former slave from my homeland?” When he glances at Varric who nods, he turns back to Hawke. “Surely you had other offers?”  
  
“Oh, he did: Blondie, Rivaini, Daisy, Shivs, not too sure about Choir Boy, but there was about three-fourths of Kirkwall. There were _offers_ , Sparkler. Believe me. Unfortunately, I figured out quite early Hawke’s got a bit of a one-track mind. _Romance Fenris._ _Save Kirkwall._ There was no stopping the guy.”  
  
“Huh. I am looking forward to meeting this Fenris.” Vivienne says. “The Tale Of The Champion appeared to only gloss over the nature of their relationship.”  
  
“Yeah...” Varric rubs the back of his neck, “while I could write an entire book on _that_ , The Tale Of The Champion wasn’t...” Varric pauses, “whatever genre Hawke and Fenris’ relationship is. Damn sure can’t call that _romance_.”  
  
As everyone looks at Hawke, he points ahead. “I see Redcliffe in the distance.”  
  
No one knows where the hell Skyhold is, excluding Solas – evidently, but traveling on horses easily cuts down travel time. It took them mere hours as opposed to, hell, days. Once they were close enough (i.e. the closest Inquisition camp), they dismounted and traveled the rest of the way on foot.  
  
Lavellan had the idea to disappear well before sending Sera out to “distract” the guards. The advisers barely give him time to himself with “Inquisition business” and since he never truly committed to the entire “save the world” bullshit, despite the ordeal with Corypheus, he thinks they’re keeping an eye on him. Fortunately, most of his “loyal” people don’t know him by face. All of Skyhold knows their leader is an elf with red or brown hair, brown skin, green... or blue eyes, a (green) glowing left hand, and yellow (?) _markings_ on his face. Once he and Sera found a jar of temporary brown paint to put over his vallaslin. Not one guard figured out he was the Inquisitor. Damn, that day was freeing. Until Josephine found him.  
  
All he needed to do was station elves with red or brown hair and brown skin and put yellow paint on their faces around Skyhold. It would be an hour, at least, before they arose suspicion. After Leliana received numerous reports of Lavellan’s whereabouts out came Sera. At least, that’s what he could assume that’s what happened. He was well out of Skyhold as soon as he placed his first stand-in. The most difficult part of the ordeal was convincing people to lie to the spymaster if prompted.  
  
On the way out, Vivienne was conversing with Josephine, Varric, and Hawke who figured – why the hell not – and left with him and Dorian.  
  
All of this began after receiving a letter from Mother Giselle, from Dorian’s parents. Well, _parent_. Had Lavellan not spoken to Dorian about his family he’d think it was simply a concerned father worried about his son’s whereabouts. But since he did talk to Dorian, he knew better. Worried about his son’s whereabouts, definitely, but not so sure about the “concerned father” part. Rather, the man was undoubtedly concerned but not for the reasons one might think.  
  
Lavellan grew up with no blood relatives and a clan that largely ignored him if he wasn’t hunting. Living well below expectation was something that resonated with him. Not to mention the man _ran_ to Haven to warn them of the venatori.  
  
Considering what it led to, Lavellan had to wonder if he made the right choice in deciding to help the templars. ~~Damn ungrateful bastards. He was right to disband them.~~  
  
“What’s the plan?”  
  
Dorian and Lavellan exchange a glance, “we’ll go in and see. Then if you hear screaming and maybe some spells, run inside. Okay?”  
  
“We’ll be by the markets, darling.” Before Josephine could protest, Vivienne ushers her toward the stalls.  
  
⚔  
  
If it is a trap, it’s the shortest trap in existence. Hawke and Varric barely get one round of wicked grace before Dorian and Lavellan exit the tavern looking far more exhausted than when they entered. “Do we wanna know?” Hawke asks.  
  
“Nope.” Dorian replies, cryptically. “You guys go on ahead. I need a long walk and a very strong drink. Or three.”  
  
“Vivienne and Josephine went on ahead. Apparently they had an ulterior motive for accompanying us—”  
  
“Hawke, _you—_ ”  
  
“Do you guys know what happened to the mages?” Hawke asks, blatantly ignoring Varric chuckling.  
  
“Ah.” Dorian taps his chin, “another reason to get a drink.”  
  
“You never told me what happened to them?”  
  
Dorian fixes Lavellan with a look. “I didn’t exactly stay to find out.”  
  
Lavellan grimaces, “ _right_.”  
  
“Well, I don’t wanna head to Skyhold yet.”  
  
“Sooner or later you’ll have to face Fenris. Why delay it?”  
  
“Let me ask you one serious question: have you ever seen Fenris angry?”  
  
“Lots of times.” Varric tilts his head, “ _well,_ huh. Now that we’re talking about it? Every time he got pissed he almost immediately calmed down. Considering he spent most of his time around you it’s a miracle we haven’t seen it before. His patience is the stuff of _legends_ , Hawke.”  
  
“Yup. Now you see why I have no intention of seeing what happens when Fenris doesn’t immediately calm down when pissed.” Hawke lets out a full body shudder, “nope. I’m not ready.”  
  
Dorian pats Hawke on the shoulder, “don’t worry! After you get chewed out we can drink!”  
  
“I suppose that’s comforting.”  
  
Varric nudges Lavellan, “what happened in there?”  
  
“Not my story to tell.”  
  
Varric nods, “got it. Sparkler will talk when he’s ready. Guy loves talking about himself.”  
  
“Huh.” Varric looks up at the redhead, “I just realized this is my first time in Redcliffe. We _could_ always take in the sights.”  
  
“Yes. That’s a good idea.” Hawke agrees, nodding furiously. “I might be able to find Fenris something. I’ll need all hands on deck for this one and I owe you one, Lavellan.”  
  
“Damn right you do. I saw an ax at that stand I wanna take a closer look at but I’ll meet you guys near the books?”  
  
“Ooh. A new weapon sounds good.”  
  
“A new weapon?” Dorian scoffs, “you’d just give your boyfriend more fuel to murder you.”  
  
Hawke sighs, “true. But at least I’ll have a shiny new weapon puncturing my flesh than his usual one.”  
  
“I said this a thousand times before, you worry me Hawke.”  
  
Lavellan shakes his head as Hawke, Dorian, and Varric head toward the market. The redhead heads to the stand with the ax that beckoned him like a beacon. As soon as he reaches for the drakestone encrusted handle he hears: “I always knew elves were drawn to shiny objects.” He draws his greatsword and points at the throat of... _Adaar_?! The qunari holds up his hands. “Nice seeing you too, kid.” Narrowing his eyes, Lavellan sheaths his sword. “You’re looking pretty good for a dead man.”  
  
“Same to you.”  
  
“Probably would’ve died if it weren’t for you. Got some pretty nasty burns and a few new scars but, hey, I know people are into that shit.” Adaar straightens up, “anyway, as you saved my ass, I figured I’d return the favor. From what I hear you could use someone not hoping you’ll put in a good word to the Maker for them.”  
  
Lavellan snorts, “that’s for sure.”  
  
“Not every Inquisitor has their own qunari bodyguard.” _Great_ because he needs another smartass qunari towering over him. _Although_ , Adaar could help him understand Bull better – assuming they don’t kill each other.  
  
“Just how much did you hear, Adaar?”  
  
“Not as much as I’d like but enough. I passed a dalish clan on my way here. They were... let’s just say they had mixed feelings on everything. Told me what they knew about the situation. Gotta say for someone called _The Herald Of_ Andraste, you’re a pretty hard guy to find.”  
  
“I guess that clan didn’t tell you about my nearly dying – a second time – because a magister, the reason for the conclave explosion, attacked Haven attempting to take this.” He wiggles the fingers on his left hand.  
  
“Maybe I’m not as up to date as I thought.” Adaar rubs the back of his neck, “but I really don’t have anything else to do.”  
  
“What the hell. We could use another qunari.”  
  
“‘Another?’” Adaar echoes, “I don’t like the sound of that.”  
  
“Don’t—”  
  
“Don’t say ‘don’t worry.’ Bet he’s a damn karasten or something.”  
  
“I don’t know what _that_ means but he said he’s a ben-hassrath.”  
  
Adaar stares at him, “‘said?’ You— _he_ , he told you he was a ben-hassrath agent? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of being a spy?”  
  
“Said something called an Inquisition would figure it out sooner or later. Besides, he gives us info.”  
  
“After telling everything to his bosses.”  
  
“Well that’s what you’re joining for, right?”  
  
“Oh yes, let’s tell the ben-hassrath about the unshackled saarebas.” Lavellan grimaces. Bull won’t be the only problem; although there are mages – not solely including: Vivienne, Solas, Dorian, and now Hawke – there are more templars. Mostly those from Therinfal Redoubt. Lavellan shrugs with a smile. “This’ll definitely be interesting. I’ll tell you that.”  
  
⚔  
  
When Hawke, Dorian, and Varric meet them at the book stall they stare. Lavellan’s used to humans (and dwarves) staring at him so this isn’t anything new. Hell, walking through Skyhold at least thirty passerbys stare at him. Hawke is the first to speak, “who is your friend?” Lavellan hasn’t read Varric’s book yet – any of them – but everyone talks about how Kirkwall was full of qunari for four years.  
  
Adaar squints at the human redhead. “Aren’t you The Champion Of Kirkwall?” The redhead’s grimace is enough of an answer. “How’d you beat an arishok in single combat?”  
  
“Still trying to figure it out, honestly.” Varric replies. “Though I can tell you it involved a lot of running around and yelling at his staff.” He sighs, “I can still see it.” Varric glances at the others staring at him, “well, you had to be there.”  
  
Dorian eyes Adaar suspiciously. “What’s a tal-vashoth mage doing roaming Redcliffe anyway?”  
  
“Lots of mages sought refuge in Redcliffe – until the ‘Vints came. ‘Course I wasn’t here for _that_ shitshow.”  
  
“Ah yes, the ‘‘Vints’ once again setting out to ruin the world.”  
  
“Careful Sparkler, you start talking like that and people‘ll believe you.”  
  
“Ah. You’re awfully pretty for a ‘Vint.”  
  
“What can I say? I got lucky.” Lavellan makes some kind of gesture in the background Hawke and Varric attempt to decipher.  
  
“Name’s Adaar. The kid – your Inquisitor – saved my life a while back and I wanna help your... ‘quest for peace’ or whatever shit you guys are into.”  
  
“At the moment we’re attempting to stop a crazy darkspawn magister who believes he’s a god.” Varric replies.  
  
“ _Oh_.” Adaar turns to Lavellan, “why didn’t you tell me _that_?”  
  
“You didn’t ask.”  
  
⚔  
  
“Is she still staring?”  
  
“Mi amor, I do not believe she ever _stopped_ staring.”  
  
Groaning, Mahariel drops her head on the table. “You are an incredible and very thorough lover, perhaps she is not over you?” Mahariel slowly lifts her head to glare at Zevran. “I am simply speaking the truth.”  
  
“I tried keeping in contact with everyone – except Alistair, because... _you know_.” Zevran nods sagely. They rarely bring up the Alistair thing. He basically had Ferelden’s – no, Thedas’ – biggest bitch fit and actually stormed off mid argument. They haven’t spoken to each other since his coronation which he also did not take well. Then again, she not only spared Loghain but made Alistair co-rule Ferelden with Anora. Anora was a bitch, no one will deny that, but she was a bitch worth respecting. There were only a handful of respectable humans Mahariel met during the Blight and Anora was easily among the top three; right up there with Duncan, for gravely different reasons though. She honestly doesn’t remember Cailan because she was busy dying from the taint at the time so she might not’ve been the most pleasant elf around. Speaking of unpleasantness, it was agreeably weird to marry Alistair off to the woman who was previously married to his half brother. “Anyway, after the divine’s death the letters were...” With a sigh, she drops her head back on the table.  
  
“So...” Isabela slides up to the table in front of Mahariel and Zevran. “Did you two see that qunari?” She whistles, “ _damn_. Here I thought Hawke rounded up some hot friends.” Isabela props her head with her fist, “I can’t wait to meet The Inquisitor. Bet... they?”  
  
“He.” Is Zevran’s confirmation.  
  
“ _He_ is the best looking of all.”  
  
“I’m just curious...” Mahariel quickly lifts her head. “They call him _‘The Herald Of Andraste.’_ ” Isabela blinks at her, “he’s dalish or so I heard. If that’s not evident of how shems thrust their religion on my people—”  
  
“Whoa!” Isabela holds up her hands, “just don’t include me in your murder spree, okay?”  
  
“Deal.”  
  
“Seriously though...” Isabela taps her chin, “I’ve spent time avoiding qunari and now I wonder why—”  
  
“Isn’t it because you stole the Tome Of Koslun?”  
  
Isabela narrows her eyes, “who told you about that?”  
  
“Varric told me about it when we met.”  
  
Isabela sighs, “of course he did. When you were killing the crows.” She glances at Mahariel, “where were you when this was happening?”  
  
“Trying to find a new warden-commander and failing. He told me all about the fight and the champion and that made me definitely want to meet him.”  
  
“ _That_ made you want to meet Hawke? Oh honey, the stories I can tell.”  
  
“Speaking of stories: Merrill. How...? Where? I’m not sure even where to begin.”  
  
“Right. You two came from the same clan. She also told me... told all of us really that...” She tilts her head then leans forward whispering in Mahariel’s ear.  
  
“ _Oh!_ Yeah.” She clears her throat. “Yeah. That was a long time ago and... shit. I did tell Zev about that.” Before Zevran can say anything Mahariel whispers in his ear. “I should thank you and Hawke. That’s another reason to meet him. Apparently, he’s not bad for a human. I haven’t met that many remarkable humans, especially ones who haven’t attempted to convert me. Other than you.”  
  
“Aw, I’m flattered but what about Leliana?”  
  
“What about her? I don’t thinks he tried converting me—”  
  
“No. I mean she’s pretty remarkable.”  
  
“She’s not talking about the sex, Isabela.”  
  
“ _Ah_! My mistake. Although, there was that _look_ she gave you. Have you spurned her since the last time we spoke?”  
  
“Creators, no! I did just the opposite. I mean, she’s the one who told me to choose... and I chose Zev.”  
  
Isabela grimaces, “I’d make the same choice too but still. She’s a lot scarier than she was all those years ago.”  
  
“The divine did die...” They look at Zevran, “no? Too soon?”  
  
“Wait. You said you were trying to find a new warden-commander?”  
  
“Yeah, nine years ago. I did, obviously. For all the good _that_ did. Wardens are disappearing all over.”  
  
“Hey, if anyone can fix this it’s you.”  
  
Mahariel grins, “true. Ooh, heads up. Your qunari friend is entering the tavern.” Isabela turns around so fast the table creaks with the movement. After an incredibly awkward staring contest between Leliana and Cassandra, the Seeker allowed them access to roam Skyhold freely. “Freely” she may have said but you don’t roam Ferelden for a fucking year and not realize when you have people watching you. _However_ , she’s dalish and she had years of practice avoiding being seen when she didn’t want to be seen. Apparently, with the Inquisitor gone Cassandra is in charge. At least that’s what the guards seem to believe. This was, evidently, her idea anyway. The first stop was the tavern “Herald’s Rest.” Well, Mahariel seriously needed a drink – or seven – after seeing Leliana. She wasn’t really sure what the others were up to. Anders, appropriately, was staying the hell away from everyone and she _really_ needed to have a conversation with him soon.  
  
Anyway, the qunari is coming in with a group of people. “Maker...” isabela breathes.  
  
“What are you looking at?”  
  
“Kitten!” Isabela swiftly turns to Merrill grinning, “didn’t see you there!”  
  
“I just got in with Iron Bull and The Chargers. Dalish wanted to see my staff.”  
  
“‘Dalish?’”  
  
“That’s what Bull calls her, what everyone calls her actually. She’s an ‘archer.’” She air-quotes so awkwardly it’s adorable.  
  
“Wait. Who is Bull?”  
  
“ _Iron_ Bull?”  
  
“Sure. Whatever. Who is that?”  
  
“The—”  
  
“Don’t point, Kitten.”  
  
“Ah. Yes. Right.” Merrill’s eyebrows furrow as she sits down, “the qunari. Never actually spoke to one before. He’s nice. Not grumpy like the Arishok. Of course, he did have his tome stolen—”  
  
“Yes, yes. I stole the tome. Are we gonna continue to bring that up?”  
  
“Yes.” Zevran and Mahariel reply.  
  
Isabela sighs. “Oh! He and Hawke fought hand-to-hand and Hawke lost but he put up a good fight.”  
  
“We missed that?” Isabela snaps her fingers, “dammit. Hawke owes us. Speaking of Hawke...” Isabela bites her lip, “how is Fenris?”  
  
“Fine. I mean, I don’t know personally but Carver told me he doesn’t seem like he’d murder his brother on sight anymore.”  
  
“Isabela, you definitely need to tell me how those two got together.”  
  
Isabela scoffs, “damn if I know. Hawke won’t share the details. Varric had to make shit up in his book. He thought of the most ‘Hawke-like scenario’ and went with it. Thinking back it could very well be how they got together. All I remember is a period of _four years_ where Hawke was completely miserable and that I will gladly tell you about.”  
  
“We will need more drinks for that.”  
  
“Maybe we can hear about this after we actually meet Hawke? Oh wait, I’m the only person at this table who hasn’t done that yet!” Zevran pats her shoulder.  
  
Merrill leans forward to pat Mahariel’s arm. “I’m sure Hawke had a good reason to not be here.”  
  
“Right.” Isabela snorts. “Like running away from Fenris, again?”  
  
“That is a good reason.” Isabela chuckles, shaking her head. “Well, the first one. I suppose. Carver told me to tell him when Hawke comes so he can hide. Apparently it’s Carver’s fault why Fenris didn’t come with Hawke to Skyhold in the first place.”  
  
“Interesting.” Isabela leans forward, grinning. “Tell me more.”  
  
“They were arguing. Because Hawke and Carver do that a lot. I think Varric’s letter said for Hawke to come alone and quickly because, you know, Corypheus. Both Fenris and Carver were gonna come with him because where Hawke goes Fenris goes. But because Grey Wardens were in trouble Carver and Fenris started arguing about whether Carver would be more help staying behind and I think Carver said – and I quote – if you think it’s too dangerous you should stay behind too.”  
  
Zevran and Isabela whistle, “those Hawke boys...” Isabela shakes her head, grinning.  
  
Mahariel groans, “enough! I will hear no more talk of Hawke until I meet him! Or The Inquisitor!”  
  
“Well you’re fine on that front, none of us have met him.” Mahariel glares at Isabela. “What? It’s true. However, since we’re already with The Inquisition, I see no reason for us to not meet the inner circle.”  
  
Mahariel rolls her eyes, “you just want to gossip.”  
  
“I do!” Isabela stands, “and we’re gonna start with Iron Bull.”  
  
Isabela already dashes over to the table before anyone could stop her. Groaning, Mahariel, Zevran, and Merrill run after her. When they approach, Iron Bull looks up at them. “Holy shit, you’re the Hero Of Ferelden.”  
  
Mahariel nods, “I am.”  
  
“The arishok talked about you.”  
  
“The...” Mahariel’s eyebrows furrow, “the arishok?”  
  
“Oh. Not the same one Hawke killed. I mean, after that shit in Kirkwall the Qun couldn’t replace him fast enough.” Bull laughs. “No. Our current arishok fought in the fifth blight. They always said qunari without horns were meant for greatness.”  
  
“Qunari without...” Mahariel blinks then slams her hands down on the table startling several people, “that’s what he meant!”  
  
“Ah.” Zevran nods in agreement, “that is so like him.”  
  
“I’m lost, I don’t remember any hornless qunari – ever.”  
  
“Me either.” Merrill folds her arms over her chest, “I always thought horns were just something qunari had.”  
  
“From what he told me ‘Sten’ is a position but that’s what he went by. Guess he goes by Arishok now?” Iron Bull nods. “So, you report to Sten?”  
  
“Oh no, I’m not important enough for that.”  
  
Mahariel’s eyes narrow as she nods, “of course.”  
  
Isabela sits down prompting the others too. “Tell us about The Inquisitor...” At Mahariel’s noise of disapproval, Isabela quickly amends. “But not too much. She wants to meet him in person before finding out all the juicy tidbits.”  
  
“Right.” Iron Bull scratches at his chin, “well, Boss is definitely unpredictable. Heard he even managed to surprise the spymaster. That’s not something people manage to do. I mean, they call Red _Spymaster_ for a reason.”  
  
“He’s also cute.” One of the elves says then clears her throat, “shut up. You were all thinking it.” The others mull it over for half a second before agreeing.  
  
“We had drinks with him.” The other elf replies, “you wouldn’t think the boss of The Inquisition would have time for a few drinks with his subjects but he’s not all preachy about his position. Truthfully, I’d say he’s not even into this whole ‘herald’ thing either.”  
  
Mahariel lets out a huge sigh of relief. Take the damn dalish out of the forest but you can’t shove your shemlen religion onto his beliefs!  
  
Iron Bull raises an eyebrow at Mahariel. “You look surprised. Were you worried they were gonna convert him or something?”  
  
“Wouldn’t you? _Everyone_ I spoke to is an Andrastian. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been exposed to humans...” She looks around, “ _Andrastians_.” She corrects, “trying to convert.” Not reasonably wise to say in front of a qunari of the Qun but Sten’s never tried to convert her during their travels the way strangers of the Andrastian chantry tried.  
  
⚔  
  
“You have history with the Hero Of Ferelden.”  
  
“Of course I do. We worked together in the fifth blight.”  
  
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”  
  
Leliana tears her eyes away from Mahariel to look at Cassandra. Neither of them frequent Herald’s Rest although Cassandra usually trains near it. After seeing Mahariel, Leliana found herself in need of a strong drink and wouldn’t you know it the damn Hero Of Ferelden was here too – with Zevran. The last bit shouldn’t be a surprise but it is. Unfortunately, the even bigger surprise was seeing them together – still together – still hurt. Mahariel had enough love for both of them but as accustom as Leliana became to sharing bedmates ~~(Marjolaine had more than she could count)~~ she hadn’t want to with Mahariel. Zevran had no issue with it and even offered to step aside but she chose him.  
  
Was it because they were both elves? If they were together, would they still be together like she was with Zevran? Mahariel helped her with Marjolaine. Arguably, she was “The Hero Of Ferelden” who helped lots of people; including everyone in Ferelden because she did save them from a blight.  
  
After getting dumped in favor of Zevran, Leliana threw herself into working for the divine. Then the divine went and died and she’s no worse for wear.  
  
“Do you have people looking for The Inquisitor?”  
  
“No. I do have reports of Josie and Vivienne returning.” _Without them_ goes unsaid but it hangs in the air. “I could always ask Josie.”  
  
“Don’t bother. The Inquisitor isn’t the type to run, I’ve seen that first hand.”  
  
“Ah, yes. You are referring to Haven.”  
  
“He could’ve run but he didn’t. In fact, he could’ve run at any time. If he is capable of deceiving even you we have to believe he is staying for a reason.”  
  
“I could not call myself a spymaster if I did not intend on finding out what that reason is.” They look at each other, “other than stopping Corypheus, of course.”  
  
“Of course.” Cassandra agrees.  
  
⚔  
  
“This has to be a test or something, right?” Lavellan looks at him, perplexed. “No? Nothing?” Dorian sighs, “where were you hiding your qunari friend?”  
  
“The Conclave.” Lavellan deadpans.  
  
“If only the rest of the Inquisition knew of your charming wit.”  
  
“It’s a talent.” Is the reply accompanied with a shrug, “you didn’t have to hang back with me, you know.”  
  
“And let you face the spymaster’s wrath by your lonesome? Now what kind of friend would I be? Especially after what you’ve done for me?” As someone who spend years avoiding things, Hawke stated the group arriving separately wouldn’t arise as much suspicion as they would returning at once. _However_ , there is a qunari who wasn’t not previously with him and Adaar’s sudden appearance would cause a commotion whether they showed up together or not. In the end, they split up in two groups: Hawke, Varric, Adaar then Dorian and Lavellan.  
  
“So... how was your talk?”  
  
“Not as terrible as I thought it was but by no means was it good.”  
  
“Yeah, I doubt one conversation in an abandoned tavern would smooth over your problems.”  
  
Dorian laughs, “so true. I doubt a million conversations in a million abandoned taverns could undo the damage caused.”  
  
“We have time. Wanna talk about it?”  
  
“I don’t and yet, I feel compelled to get it off my chest.”  
  
“Secret for a secret?”  
  
“Ooh. Now you have me interested. I’ll start only because I believe your secret is even juicier than mine.” Lavellan rolls his eyes. “I found out my father wanted to perform a blood ritual on me when I wouldn’t put on a show and marry the girl he chose for me. He – the same man who taught me to hate blood magic. Said it was a result of weakness. I guess we all have weak moments but still...” Dorian sighs. “Even attempting to understand where he came from? I don’t think I could ever forgive him.”  
  
“I don’t think you should.” Dorian glances at him, “he tried to change you. Creators only know what would’ve happened if it worked. Had you not been at Redcliffe we’d all be dead. You saved a lot of lives when you warned us of the venatori.”  
  
“Alright. Your sincerity is getting me misty eyed and I believe I’ve spilled enough. Your turn.”  
  
“I have a crush on Iron Bull.”  
  
Dorian scoffs, “who doesn’t? Have you seen the man? That’s not a real secret.”  
  
“That _is_ a real secret but if you want something darker I’ll tell you this: I kinda wished I did die at the conclave.” Dorian’s eyes widen. “Joining my ancestors seemed preferable to the direction my life was going. Keeper Deshanna says all things – especially the bad ones – happen for a reason and it’s a testament to our belief that we keep going. I didn’t want to begin resenting myself or my clan so I essentially volunteered on what many believed to be a suicide mission. If only I could remember what fully happened.”  
  
“Wow.”  
  
“Yeah. Wow is one word to use.”  
  
“Do you still feel that way now?”  
  
“Sometimes. The idea of running my sword straight through Corypheus keeps me going, though.”  
  
“I think you need a devilishly handsome man to help you out from time to time when you feel low, and wouldn’t you know it? I happen to be available.” Dorian dramatically clasps a hand on his chest. “I know I appear perfect in every aspect but I get depressed too. We’ll both always be outsiders to the Inquisition, you with your faith and me being from Tevinter. If we don’t look out for each other who will?”  
  
“Thanks, Dorian.”  
  
“You are most welcome. Now about this crush...”  
  
“What? No! You said it’s not a real secret.”  
  
“When I think about it – it really is. No one else knows, right? That spells secret to me. I haven’t been with the Inquisition as long as the others but even I’ve heard the stories. I think I should test the waters for you. Make sure it’s safe.”  
  
“Waters?”  
  
“ _You know—_ ” He gestures crudely with his hands.  
  
“ _Oh!_ ” Lavellan shouts then clears his throat. “Oh.” He narrows his eyes at Dorian. “How considerate of you to offer yourself like that.”  
  
“Hey, what are friends for?”  
  
⚔  
  
Being on the run for most of his life made Hawke very good at sneaking into places. It probably would’ve been better for the five of them to return together but Dorian and Lavellan looked like they needed time to talk about things.  
  
It took about a day’s travel, much like they thought it would but they’re already in Skyhold with no one any the wiser. Except probably Leliana, _but_ she hasn’t cornered them yet so maybe they’re safe?  
  
“How are we gonna ask question of where this guy came from?”  
  
“Hopefully Lavellan will be back by then.”  
  
“You’ve taken a liking to the Inquisitor.”  
  
“So have you.”  
  
“True. What’s not to like about the guy?” Varric eyes him, “ _although_ , I believe you have a weakness when it comes to elves.”  
  
Hawke scoffs, “perish the thought, Serah.”  
  
“Hey, is that Fenris?” Varric laughs then when he turns to Hawke, the redhead is gone. “Well, damn. That was quick. Even for Hawke.” Adaar whistles. “C’mon, Crescent, let’s try not to make a scene.”  
  
“Crescent?” Varric points at his horns. “Ah. This is one of those legendary nicknames Hawke told me about? How come Hawke has so many?”  
  
“Trying to get one that sticks.” Varric grumbles. “Hopefully it’ll help me get one for The Inquisitor. Speaking of which...” He eyes Adaar, “how’d you meet the kid?”  
  
“The Conclave. My kith got a job offer to guard the robes from their stupidity. Met the kid who was doing a poor job of looking comfortable. I approached, talking to him thinking—more like hoping—it’ll calm him somewhat.”  
  
“Let me guess. Made things worse?”  
  
Adaar laughs, “yup. Wasn’t scared of me, which was weird, but he definitely did not want to be there. Then some shit happened and there was running and I think the explosion came next? Not really sure what happened.”  
  
“Hm. Neither does he.”  
  
“Figured. Little guy’s stronger than he looks.” Adaar muses. “First elf I ever spoke to that didn’t cower in fear at the sight of me.”  
  
“Do you remember what happened in the conclave, before the explosion?”  
  
“Hm? Let’s see there was a lot of talking? I kinda tuned it out.”  
  
“Before the talking.”  
  
“Ah. Arguing, the robes do that a lot don’t they?” Robes. Why hasn’t Varric ever thought of calling them that? Huh. Now that he thinks about it, Hawke’s never worn a robe once. Then again, Hawke is not a typical mage. Like say, Iron Lady or the small group of mages the Inquisition managed to recruit prior to the templar shit they got themselves into. And really, why did they help the templars? Varric’s befriended a handful of mages – all of which are particular brands of insane, except ~~possibly~~ Vivienne, but templars? There was no befriending. Cassandra, although not a templar because of the lack of lyrium (and other seeker related shit), is absolutely no fun. Hell, it took all of Varric’s willpower to get Curly to even strike up a conversation that wasn’t about how dangerous mages could be. Varric had to wonder if Cullen knew Hawke was an actual apostate or if the guy was just oblivious. It’s not like Hawke ever _once_ hid the fact that he was a mage.  
  
⚔  
  
“What do you plan to do about your crush?”  
  
“My what? Creators, not this again.”  
  
“I’m gonna keep asking until you give me an actual answer.”  
  
With a sigh, Lavellan turns to Dorian and stands on his tip toes so they’re eye to eye, almost. “I plan on doing absolutely nothing. It’s not the first crush I’ve had and it won’t be the last. It’ll pass.”  
  
Dorian shakes his head, “that’s no good. I’ve seen how ol’ one eye stares at you when he thinks no one is looking.” Lavellan narrows his eyes, “what? You keep in marvelous shape, who am I to not notice?” It’s difficult to blush while scowling but the redhead manages. “Anyway, as I stare I notice... others doing the same. Usually when you do the sword training.”  
  
“Leliana said it wouldn’t be ‘fitting’ to have those training dummies in my quarters. So I have to train ‘in the appropriate training areas.’”  
  
“Why would you—” Dorian shakes his head, “never mind. Point is, he stares _a lot_. So do the Chargers. And Josephine.” Lavellan stares. “What? She does.”  
  
“Look. Staring or not, I—” His feet are staring to hurt so he rocks back on his heels. “It doesn’t matter, Dorian. It’s...” He sighs, “it doesn’t matter.”  
  
“You know what you need? Confidence in your cuteness.”  
  
“I’m not _cute_.”  
  
“Oh, you are and you pouting? Definitely cute.”  
  
“I’m not pouting.” Dorian tsks him. Oh shit, is this why his shitty flirting gets misinterpreted. “Oh, fenedhis lasa, I’m an _idiot_.” He groans.  
  
“You are a lot of things, Lavellan, but idiot is not one of them.”  
  
“Yeah? I just might change your opinion when I tell you how poorly I’ve been ‘flirting’” He air-quotes, “at Bull.” Dorian laughs then covers it with a cough. “I doubt he takes me seriously. Doubt anyone takes me seriously with how ‘cute’ I am.”  
  
“See. You say cute like it’s a bad thing and maybe Bull is messing with you?” Dorian shrugs, “he seems like the type. You have this unique charm, so maybe you flirt without realizing it?” Lavellan’s face falls. “Oh, kaffas. Wrong thing to say. Look, I happen to be an expert at flirting. It would be remiss of me not to teach you a thing or two.” Lavellan eyes him warily. “We’ll have Iron Bull eating out of the palm of your hand in no time, or you eating out of his. Whatever your fancy.”  
  
“I’ve never, uh...” He’s sadly getting the hang of this simultaneous blushing and frowning thing, “particularly had the fancy?”  
  
Dorian blinks at him until his mouth opens a bit, “ah. Now, if you are saying what I think you are saying this will be easier than you thought. We’ll call it a teaching moment.”  
  
“I’m not sure I—”  
  
“Shh. Just leave everything to me. Oh and you might want to stay away from Cole for a while, yeah?”  
  
Lavellan grimaces, “yeah.” Then again, Lavellan, in Cole’s apparent proximity, admiring Dorian’s beauty was what kicked off their friendship. Creators, things would be so much simpler if he could—or even if he did—develop a crush on Dorian instead.  
  
Wait, then he’d be even weirder around Dorian and no one wants that.  
  
Perhaps The Keeper was right and everything does happen for a reason? Or she’s simply mad and he’s cursed.  
  
⚔  
  
There is a sword laying on the bed when Fenris enters the room. Upon hearing who he was (courtesy of Isabela), they’d given him the bedroom they put Hawke in.  
  
When Isabela had first come up here with him, she snagged one of Hawke’s shirts then ran off. Fenris had no idea why but Isabela had a habit of stealing Hawke’s clothing, sometimes off his body. She promised to teach him how but she hasn’t delivered yet.  
  
They’ve been here for about a day with no sign of Hawke, The Inquisitor, or Varric. Although, if Fenris had to guess this sword just screams Hawke; it’s definitely flashy enough.  
  
There’s a knock on the door and it opens before Fenris can say anything. “Still no Hawke?” Isabela asks. “He’d better— _ooh_ , where did that come from?”  
  
“I believe it’s a present for me.”  
  
“A bribe? Smart.” Isabela taps her chin, “but how’d he get it in here? You hardly left the room since we arrived.”  
  
“Varric was with him—”  
  
“Ah. Right. He probably snuck it in. Just remember, don’t be too hard on Hawke? Unless that’s what he’s into.” She shrugs, “doesn’t strike me as the type though. Anyway...”  She saunters into the room and sits on the bed, caressing the sword. “How are you?”  
  
“Have you come here to distract me?”  
  
Isabela’s eyes shift to the door slightly, “no.”  
  
“You placed the sword in here.”  
  
The brunette huffs, “I wanted to but Varric already had it covered. Right, speaking of Varric? He had a different qunari with him. A mage. And he wasn’t—” She gestures with her hands, “ _you know_.” Fenris nods, somehow understanding her meaning. “Not sure where this one came from though. _And_ no one’s seen Hawke or The Inquisitor.”  
  
Fenris sits on the bed beside her, “we know Hawke as well as Varric—”  
  
“Maybe a bit better.” She agrees with a shrug, “but I get you.”  
  
The door flies open revealing a rather large basket... and a pair of legs. “I hope I didn’t hit anyone with the door.”  
  
“You’re fine.” Isabela replies.  
  
“Ah, thank the Maker. I’m here as a messenger of Serah Tethras.” Both Isabela and Fenris stand and take the basket from the scout. “Ah, thank you.”  
  
“What is all this stuff?”  
  
“Gifts for The Champion.”  
  
“From Varric?”  
  
“What? No. He told me where to go, I’m not sure who the gifts are from. Although Serah Tethras did have a message.” The scout clears their throat: “ _Dammit, Red, why do you get me in these shit situations?!”_ Isabela and Fenris exchange a glance.  
  
The scout bids them adieu and they look through the items in the basket. “I’d say either Hawke has a multitude of stalkers or people are very lucky with their guesses.” Isabela wrinkles her nose, “except this one.” She tosses a wedge of Orleasian cheese onto the table.  
  
“I agree.”  
  
“Soaps straight from Rivain.” Isabvela whistles, “might have to snag one of there are extras.”  
  
“Want the Orlesian soaps?”  
  
Isabela wrinkles her nose at him, “sometimes they are just so...” She shrugs, “yeah, sure. I know Hawke considers himself both Fereldan and a Free Marcher – Kirkwaller, whatever – so he’d never willingly want any fancy Orleasian stuff. I, on the other hand, would very much like the fancy stuff. Ooh, maybe I can give them to Mahariel—”  
  
“If anyone is prouder to be a Fereldan than Hawke, its The Hero Of Ferelden.”  
  
“Yeah. She might like the Antivan stuff though, she’ll share with Zev.”  
  
The door opens and they glance at Hawke who is staring back at them. “ _Oh_.” He tilts his head, “what is all that stuff?”  
  
“Presents for you.” Isabela gestures to them, “I’m taking everything Orleasian.”  
  
The redhead walks into the room and hugs Fenris from behind, “sorry for leaving... the second time. And, the first too.”  
  
Fenris turns to him, “it’s fine.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“Would you prefer if I didn’t forgive you?”  
  
“Uh...” As he releases Fenris, Hawke glances at Isabela who furiously shakes her head. “No. I-I’m happy you forgive me?” She nods. “Right. _Oh_! I got you something...” When both Isabela and Fenris point to the sword he shakes his head, “well, yes, but not only that. Now we gotta move because I saw Carver heading this way and I’m definitely avoiding him.”  
  
⚔  
  
“Uh, Seeker Pentaghast?” Cassandra looks up from her book at the scout shifting on their feet awkwardly. “There’s, uh, uh...” The scout frowns, “there are Dalish elves here... to see The Inquisitor.”  
  
Cassandra frowns. Why do they always go to her? With a sigh, she gets up and follows the scout to the entrance. There are two Dalish elves standing by the gate – there’s an older one and beside her is one that looks around The Inquisitor’s age.  
  
“What seems to be the problem?” Cassandra asks.  
  
“I’m here to see Da’len.” The older elf states. “I received this letter asking for me to see him.”  
  
“I know nothing of any letter sent by The Inquisitor—”  
  
“Ah, yes, I forgot to tell you.” Josephine says as the scouts bring her to the gate. “Sorry. I was not sure if The Inquisitor wanted anyone to know. I’m—”  
  
“Josephine.” They shake hands. “Da’len spoke of you.” A pause, “wrote of you.”  
  
“Oh! It is an honor to meet you Keeper Deshanna. I will—”  
  
“The Inquisitor is not here.”  
  
Josephine turns to Cassandra. “Excuse me? Why? Where has he gone?”  
  
“We are not certain but scouts have received word of Serah Tethras’ return so The Inquisitor can’t be too far behind.” A scout replies.  
  
“I see.” Josephine straightens up, “we can take you to The Inquisitor’s quarters if you’d like.”  
  
“‘Quarters?’” The younger elf questions. Josephine nods. The elves exchange a glance before nodding.


End file.
